Turn on Sunny 101.5.
I frowned at the screen. As far as I knew, Sunny 101.5 had been playing Christmas music every day all day until the twenty-fifth, just like all the stores in the mall and every shop on Main Street and at the offices of the Stonebury Gazette.
“Who’s that?” Gillian asked, still writing away.
I stared at Jack’s message, wondering what was in store for me now. She looked up from her notebook, pushing hair from her face with the back of her hand. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Um, do you have a radio?”
“No, I have an iPhone.”
Yeah, that was what I figured. Sarah used to keep one in the cabinet in case of emergencies, but that was long gone.
But then I got an idea. “Will you come with me for a second?”
She got up without question and followed me out of the apartment. We didn’t stop for our coats, just jogged over to my car, and she sat there patiently while I started the engine. She reached for the heater as I turned on the stereo. No Christmas music, just a Force of Nature song ending.
Then the DJ’s voice boomed into my car.
“We have a real treat for you all now. Superstar Jack Moreland is live in our studio here on Main Street in Stonebury!”
Slowly, Gillian turned to me, her eyes huge. We both stared at the radio as if it were speaking directly to us.
“Jack, thank you for coming back to your hometown and spending your morning with us.”
“Glad to be here, Mick.”
Mick. Of course the DJ’s name was Mick.
“Now, I know you’re here just passing through, so that makes this trip all the more special. Plus, you have an announcement to make, something very cool for all of your fans here in Stonebury and around the world.”
Jack made a low sound in his throat, somewhere between a sigh and a laugh, and I could just picture the looks he was probably shooting the overly enthused Mick. “Yes, that’s true. Thank you for letting me do it live on your show. I wanted to announce a brand new song, and we’re playing it here for the first time.”
“That’s right! Such a cool thing for all the people from your hometown who love you, and believe me, there are tons of them. ‘Good Enough’ is my most requested song.”
“Oh, really? That’s very cool.”
God, he was still so nice. He could have taken the moment to point out that no one in Stonebury cared about him when he wasn’t a celebrity. But that wasn’t Jack. Just another reason why I loved him.
“And there’s something even more special about this song, folks. You’ve been in London, recording a new album, but this song isn’t from that new album. What you are all about to hear is a just released B-side. Now, B-sides aren’t very common today, but you hope to bring them back, is that right?”
“That’s right, Mick, but I should explain that since this song you’re about to play wasn’t released on the original album, it’s not technically a B-side. But we are going to be re-releasing the album with this as the eleventh song. And you can download it on iTunes, of course.”
“Now, that is just fantastic. What was your inspiration?”
“I’ve always been a fan of B-sides. Growing up, a collection wasn’t complete until I scoured the record store for every last one of them. I think the B-side is a lost art. Many times, the B-side is a better song than the cuts that make the record. They can be artsier, more obscure, not necessarily radio-friendly. They can round out the record, but they make you work for it a little more. I like that.”
“I love that. I really do. The lost art of the B-side. That’s fantastic. Okay, so before we play the new song, which I’m sure will be a monster hit, can you tell our listeners what your plans are next?”
“Well, I wrapped the Force of Nature tour, and as you said, I was lucky enough to record my second album in London the past two months. That should be out next year. For now, I’m hoping to relax a bit.”
“That is fantastic!”
Gillian and I exchanged a glance. Did Mick know any other adjectives?
“Late next year can’t come soon enough,” Mick continued, “but for now, we’ve got some new music to hold you over until then. So here it is, folks. Exclusively on Sunny 101.5, Stonebury, Massachusetts, Jack Moreland’s first B-side release. It’s called ‘My Apologies.’”
“Holy mother of pearl,” Gillian whispered.
I leaned into her and took her hand, and then I closed my eyes.
The songs on Good Enough had all shared a catchy, melodic sound, heavy bass and guitar and tambourine. This one was stripped-down, simple. It didn’t even have a chorus. It could never be a Top Forty hit.
There are some things I’ll never say
Even to myself
The darkest secrets that keep me up at night
Well they’re always the same
Regrets they come so easily and they never really leave
Until all that’s left are my apologies
I won’t list them one by one, they’re too long for that
I just want you to know that I have them too
And they’re all for you
My apologies
The song ended and I couldn’t move. I had to tell myself to breathe.
New DJs came on next, the typical morning show couple who were way too chipper and who thought prank calling random people in the phone book and airing their reactions live was hilarious. It felt almost offensive to be pulled out of Jack’s song by Sonny and Kim, like being woken up from an afternoon nap by someone pounding on the door.
“Natalie,” Gillian whispered. “You’re cutting off my blood supply.”
“Oh.” I released her hand. “Sorry.”
We both shrieked a little when my phone rang.
“So?” he asked. “What did you think?”
“I think…I think I loved it.”
“Really?”
Could he really doubt it? “Really.”
He was quiet and I started to panic that I lost the connection. “Guess where I am right now.”
“Where?”
“On Main Street, somewhere between the radio station and your apartment.”
“Where on Main Street?”
“Bookstore. People are taking pictures of me. Can you believe it? I wasn’t even in Science Club.”
I laughed until there were tears in my eyes. “Stay right where you are, okay?”
When we hung up, Gillian grabbed my hands, squeezing them tight. “Okay. Listen to me. You will remain calm. You will not hyperventilate, or have a panic attack, or anything like that.” She took a couple heaving breaths. “You will go out there, and you will go get him. Okay?”
She was somewhere between laughter and tears, too, sinking her nails into my wrist. Gently, I pried our hands apart. I looked her in the eyes. “Okay,” I said.
She started to get out of the car, then stopped. She reached out for a fist-bump. I complied, of course.
I saw the crowd before I saw him. It seemed like everyone in Stonebury had been listening to Sunny 101.5 that morning, and now they had spilled out into the streets. Police were directing traffic, which was at a standstill. There was no way I’d find a spot on the street, so I pulled my car into the closest lot, in front of a pharmacy, and got out. I pushed through the mass of bodies, and the crowd hushed when they saw me. It was as if maybe they were waiting for me, too. Eventually, the crowd parted for me, and I saw him, a block away, leaning up against the window of the bookstore, looking a lot like the cardboard cutout of him that had once stood here.
He spotted me and stepped forward. I crossed the street, completely aware of why my brain was finding it hard to compute what was happening. We’d never stood on the same Stonebury street in the daylight before. Any time we were together in town, the sun had already set. Here I was now, and every step I took brought me closer to him.
And then I reached him. There were people all around us, so many phones and cameras clicking away. But I saw only him.
<
br /> “I can’t believe you,” I said. My face already hurt from smiling.
Click.
He shrugged. He was smiling, too. “Now we’re even with the grand gestures.”
Click click.
A gust of winter wind off the ocean blew his hair into his eyes and there were even more clicks. In a split second, I saw all the possible headlines. finally! proof that small-town photographer is really the rock star’s muse!; apologies, apologies! how natalie got jack to forgive her; jack & natalie reunite—but will it last? There were so many ways for this to go, but only one thing to do now. Give the public what they wanted.
I stepped forward at the same time Jack did and took his face in my hands. That face was on the cover of CDs and magazines, so maybe it did belong to everyone.
But mostly, it belonged to me.
I kissed him. He kissed me back.
I was pretty sure some people in the crowd were cheering.
It was a cold December day, but there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. Dark and starry, or a bright, shining blue, the sky was still the same after all these years.
Acknowledgments
Thank you to my editor, Stacy Abrams, for making this book far better than it ever could have been without her.
I am so grateful to everyone who read early drafts (and there were many!) and provided feedback: Leslie Carter, D.K. Burrow, Eve Trombley, and Diane Mulligan.
To Maribeth Bordage, thank you for sharing the experience of your worst kiss so that I could then pass it down to Natalie.
If you are interested in a heartbreaking and cutting song about a man jilted by his love, check out Jeff Buckley’s “Forget Her,” which provided me with many hours of obsessive listening and gave me the idea for this book.
I would also like to say a special thanks to my furry companion of twelve years who passed away during the edits of this book. Gordie always made sure I got my writing done and loved to sprawl out on my laptop as I wrote. My lap will be emptier without you, but I know I’ll see you again someday.
Thank you to my husband, Jeff, my biggest and most constant inspiration. I am so grateful for your love, encouragement, and, perhaps most importantly, your uncanny ability to come up with some really bad band names. I love you.
About the Author
Stephanie Monahan is also the author of 33 Valentines. She received her degree in English Literature and Rhetoric from Binghamton University. In addition to reading and writing, she is passionate about the New York Giants, finding the perfect cup of chai tea, and her dog. Born and raised in upstate New York, Stephanie now lives in central Massachusetts with her husband. Visit her online at http://stephmonahanwrites.wordpress.com/.
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The Mean Girl Apologies Page 26